Reeve Ashbourne had his jaw clamped by his cousin Aurelia as she forced a crystal glass against his lips

The Lucchese underboss groaned, clutching his bleeding shoulder as he looked up at the towering figure of Reeve Ashbourne. The cinematic lighting of the burning SUVs cast flickering, violent shadows across Reeve’s handsome, angular face. The artistic tattoos on his hands gripped the weapon with absolute, terrifying stability.

"She said you were weak," the underboss gasped, coughing heavily. "She said you were distracted by a maid. That the family was fracturing."

"Is protecting my family a distraction, or is it the very foundation of my strength?" Reeve asked softly, his deep voice carrying clearly over the crackling flames of the ruined vehicles.

The underboss had no answer. He squeezed his eyes shut, anticipating the final shot.

"Will you return to your boss and inform him that the Ashbourne syndicate is no longer accepting unsolicited visitors?" Reeve asked.

The underboss opened his eyes in shock, realizing he was being spared as a messenger. He nodded frantically. "Yes. Yes, I’ll tell him."

Reeve lowered his weapon slowly. He turned his broad shoulders, looking back toward the massive, brilliantly lit mansion. The gunfire had ceased entirely. His men were securing the perimeter, moving with the disciplined efficiency that made the Ashbourne family the most feared in the city. The ambush was a total, devastating victory.

"Are the casualties on our side confirmed?" Reeve asked his lead enforcer as he walked back toward the main house.

"Two wounded, Boss. None critical," the enforcer reported proudly. "We completely crushed them. The Lucchese won't recover from this loss of manpower for years."

"Will you ensure the wounded are given the best medical care available, and double the hazard pay for every man who fought tonight?" Reeve instructed, holstering his weapon.

"Yes, Boss. What about Aurelia in the holding cells?" the enforcer asked.

Reeve paused, his sharp jawline tightening. Aurelia had orchestrated this massacre. She had sold the family secrets and invited an invading army onto their property, all while trying to poison him at his own table.

"Do you believe a traitor deserves the comfort of a quick resolution, or should she sit in the dark and imagine what I am going to do to her for a few more days?" Reeve asked softly.

"Let her rot, Boss," the enforcer smirked.

Reeve nodded, ascending the marble steps of the portico. The adrenaline was finally beginning to ebb, leaving behind a profound, aching exhaustion. He had defended his empire, secured his borders, and solidified his rule. But as he stepped through the heavy oak doors into the pristine grand foyer, his mind was entirely focused on the woman waiting in the dark.

He didn't stop to address the terrified staff who were slowly emerging from the secure areas. He walked with rapid, purposeful strides, his leather shoes clicking loudly on the marble floors. He bypassed the main staircase, heading directly for the heavy, reinforced steel door of the wine cellar bunker.